


Disturbed

by Bagpipes5k2, Mrs Steal-your-girl (markofthemoros)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bulimia, Depression, Eating Disorders, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Realistic, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 10:25:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13809264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bagpipes5k2/pseuds/Bagpipes5k2, https://archiveofourown.org/users/markofthemoros/pseuds/Mrs%20Steal-your-girl
Summary: Stricken with feelings of inadequacy heightened by his anxiety, Prompto tries to deal with an eating disorder, insisting there’s nothing wrong. But his insecurities run deeper than either him or his friends know.





	1. He Walks the Earth in Feather Steps

**Author's Note:**

> Mrs Steal-your-girl: The idea for this entire thing actually came to be when Bagpipes and I were talking about that we both agreed on the rather popular fan theory that Prompto could have been suffering from an eating disorder at some point of his weight loss process. And then it sorta evolved into this.  
> Eating disorders are going to be presented as realistically as possible. The things and thoughts Prompto goes through might be more or less relatable to any with experience of an eating disorder, and might be disturbing or provoking, so please be cautioned if the topic is uncomfortable for you.
> 
> **TRIGGER WARNING: This story contains references to eating disorders, anxiety, and depression among others.**

Beta read by Elillierose

* * *

 Warm air ruffled the hair of Insomnia’s prince as he walked home from school with his best friend in tow. Summer had finally come around and their high school finished. Noctis was glad; he could only imagine what university would bring as far as studies, and the idea of flopping onto his couch and playing video games with Prompto for the next three months of summer was paradise.

 

Prompto looked around the city, itching to take photos of everything. He paused at a particularly beautiful fountain, framing the shot just so. Bronze fish sculptures in the fountain caught the sunlight, the rays turning the metal to molten silver and flaring along the artwork. Noctis smiled at his companion’s endless wonder.

 

“Want some food? My treat.” Noct gestured at one of their favorite places, a sushi eatery.

 

“Um, sure.” Prompto did his best to hide his trepidation at the suggestion of food. It wasn’t that he wasn’t hungry, but the thought sent his mind reeling. _I’ve worked so hard to not gain that damn weight back I used to have_ , the blond thought. _A few pieces of fish shouldn’t hurt, but. . . but I can’t let Noct know it bothers me. Not when I’m so close to becoming one of his Crownsguards_. They headed to the restaurant and soon had a plate of sushi split between them.

 

“Something on your mind, Prom?” Noct looked at his friend a bit quizzically. “You’ve hardly touched your food.”

 

“Hm? No, I’m fine. . .just thinking up ways to kick your ass on that new Assassin’s Creed game.” Prompto mentally slapped himself for picking at his food and getting lost in thought. He should know better. He ate a few pieces of the sushi --which was quite good-- and wrapped up the rest to take back to Noct’s place for later. They resumed their journey to the royal’s home and the prince wrapped an arm around Prompto’s shoulders. The blond grinned. “Three to one says Gladio has you training already tomorrow.”

 

Noct snorted. “Not before noon, he isn’t.”

 

“Hey, mind if I tagged along, too?” The royal raised a surprised eyebrow. “It’d be cool to break some sweat with you guys.”

 

“Sure,” the other agreed, clearly delighted by his offer. “If you wanna.”

 

“Damn right I do! Sounds ace!”

 

“Haha. You’re such a nerd.”

 

As they got closer to the apartment block, Prompto stopped. “Mind if I grab a shot around the corner? I won’t be long, go on ahead.”

 

“Sure thing.” Noct continued onwards to his apartment. Glancing behind him, to see if the prince decided to wait for him after all --he didn’t-- Prompto rounded a corner to a secluded area, already hating himself for what he was about to do.

 

 _But I don’t see any way around it_. Sliding his backpack to the ground, he pulled a chocobo feather from a side pocket, looking at it accusingly before opening his mouth and sticking it far back into his throat. His gag reflex kicked in and Prompto, hacking a few times before, threw up the food he’d just eaten.

 

 _Damn it all_. . . Panting a little, Prompto slid down to the ground beside his pack, shoving the feather back into its pocket, shaking and feeling like shit. His best friend had paid for a delicious meal for him. . .and he’d just decorated a shrubbery’s roots with it.

 

 _They wouldn’t understand. It has to be this way_. Prompto sighed and got back up. He made a face at the bitter taste on his tongue, and dug into his belongings again; making sure he wiped his mouth with one of the crumpled napkins he kept in his backpack for just that reason, the blond popped the cap of breath mints. Satisfied, he emerged back into the side street that led to Noct’s place, heading into the home where his friend and the comfort of gaming waited for him.

 

Noctis was setting up a new game for them to play, one he’d wanted to share with Prompto especially. The blond looked at the case.

 

“Assassin’s Creed Origins? Sweet!” Prom settled into one of the fancy gaming chairs Noctis owned--absurdly comfy--and grabbed the controller. It wasn’t long before the two friends were having a competition to see who could play the longest without getting killed or losing track of whatever quest they were trying to complete. Eventually, Noct needed to make a bathroom run, and when he did Prompto noticed the full bowl of chocolates on the coffee table.

 

 _Dammit. . . why do those have to be here_? _My favorite brand, too_. Prompto set down his controller. “Just one.” He scooped up one of the chocolates and unwrapped it. Popping it into his mouth, he revelled in the silken feel of the sweet, the rich flavor filling his senses. Then it was gone. The blond looked at the bowl again, and before he’d realized it, another candy was being chewed and thoroughly enjoyed, then a third. _Stop it, you idiot!_ _Do you want things to go back to the way they used to be?_

 

Noct reappeared and took up the controller from Prom, noting the candy wrappers. “Help yourself, I’ve got plenty more of those,” the prince tossed as he took up where Prompto had left off in the game. Chirping a ‘thank you’, behind the royal’s back, Prompto eyed the bowl warily. He really shouldn’t.

 

    “My turn for the bathroom.” Noctis let out a wordless ‘mmph’ as an acknowledgement, too engrossed in defending himself from a group of assailants currently coming onto him on the screen to formulate actual speech. Prompto got up and jogged down the short hallway, darting into the restroom and closing the door. Sighing, he looked at himself in the mirror, unable to resist looking at some of the old stretch marks that peeked past the edge of his t-shirt like tiny roadmaps across a pale landscape.

 

    _Are you trying to go back to that_ ? _Your old self_ ? _Why the hell did you have to have those pieces_ ? And the usual internal response: _Because if I didn’t take at least one, Noct would wonder why. And I can’t let him find out about_ . . . _whatever this is. Or the other guys. Especially Iggy_. Prompto stared into the mirror again, angry at what he saw. He let out an irritated hiss, cringing at himself; slender fingers gripped the edges of the refined marble vanity as the boy in the mirror stared back accusingly.

 

 _Get it together, Prompto!_ He fixed his reflection a merciless, scolding look. Turning his face, his body, he studied himself, each flaw, each imperfection. He could almost see the handles settling onto his hips already, the flap building under his chin...

 

 _Look at yourself_ , he berated. _It’s disgusting. You wanna end up back there, after all this time? Back being that fatass loser? The others would never approve of_ that, he squinted at the mental image. Then, a more consoling expression rose onto his face as he now gazed at himself in a more gentle way. _You can do this, Prom. Just work it off tomorrow with Noct and the guys. Just, don’t have any more._

 

 _I don’t wanna end up back there_ , he reminded himself with a firm nod. He would never want to go there again. The leftover pack of sushi he had spared popped back into his mind, too, and Prompto cringed, the taste of acid rising into his mouth a little at the thought. He shouldn’t...but Noct had seen him take it with him. Would it be ungrateful not to finish it? _Well, maybe just a little bit. That can’t be that bad. It’s just fish, fish isn’t that bad. And the rice, and the sugar in it...dammit!_

 

 _No more slip-ups._ Still, he cast the mirror one more scolding look before he pulled to flush the empty toilet, and let the water run for a while before stepping out of the bathroom.

 

A half-voiced cuss greeted him as he rejoined Noctis, and a single glance towards the shaky-cam ‘desynchronization’ flashing on the screen before it went dark altogether told him enough. “Looks like this just isn’t you day, buddy,” Prompto chuckled as he took the controller from the other and resettled onto his chair, waiting for the loading screen to disappear.

 

Noctis made a face. “I would have been just fine if _someone_ had spent the few coin on smoke bombs instead of wanting a bow upgrade…”

 

“Details, details,” the blond brushed it off playfully. “Now, lessee what you have for me here…”

 

The rest of the evening went by on wings, the guys taking turns in the game, until Noctis eventually got up again, stretched and slouched to the fridge. “Hey. Your sushi’s here,” he called out lazily.

 

“Uhm,” the blond’s attention was drawn from the game at the mention of food. He didn’t know what to say.

 

Unbeknownst to the raven himself, Noctis came to his rescue, though. “Are you gonna finish it?”

 

Prompto blinked; a bit hesitant, he opened his mouth to reply, but before a single sound other than ‘uhm’ could be let out, the inner voice had him doubting himself already. Then, “Nah. Not all that hungry.”

 

“You sure?” Noctis sounded sceptical. “You hardly ate any of it.”

 

“Yeah, I’m good,” the blond offered a dismissing smile.

 

“Well...do you mind if I eat it? I’m starving.” The prince looked a bit unsure.

 

“Sure, go ahead,” Prompto waved his hand as he went back to the game. “You paid for it anyway,” he lied through his teeth. Truthfully, his stomach was protesting the lack of nourishment, and Prompto wished to a higher power that it didn’t decide to voice its demand. _There’s no way I could explain that._

 

“Well, if you’re sure,” the prince shrugged as he grabbed the see-through box and a pair of chopsticks, and came back to sit with him. Prompto made sure to not look as Noctis sat next to him, and started munching quietly. _It’s better this way,_ the blond thought to himself. _He paid for it, anyway._ As if it had made a difference in the Lucian prince’s budget.

 

Without him noticing, the blond’s hand eventually strayed towards the bowl of treats, though, as Noctis had again claimed his right to the controller, and another tasty bit found its way into his mouth; now it tasted even better to him, thanks to his rising hunger, and Prompto realized his mistake too late as his tongue watered in the aftertaste, contradicting emotions waging a war inside him. It tasted so good, and he was pretty sure Noctis had got that brand in particular with Prompto in mind. Noct was aware how much he liked them. He held himself back, though, trying to focus on the game, on Noctis’ half-voiced mutters as he tried to figure out what to do to make it farther in the puzzle he was currently trying to solve, anywhere except on the feeling of his stomach eating itself from the inside out, and the inviting bowl of chocolates sitting on the table that Noctis had so generously offered him to help himself to…

 

His fingers had begun to thrum the couch seat, but Prompto was too preoccupied to notice it. _I had, like, four pieces of that chocolate. 156 calories. Not too bad. Especially since we’re gonna go have a workout tomorrow. And well, I guess I didn’t really have that much at lunch. So, I guess I can have, like, a couple more._ A hand ventured towards to reach for the candy. _Yeah, a couple more, it’s not that big of a deal._

 

Noctis was pretty good at this game. His turn had lasted for way over half an hour already, and what eventually did him in, whether it was actually the raven’s fault was up to debate. The character glitched mid-jump, landing the assassin four stories down a building in an inglorious heap, crimson spreading across the screen and the harsh message informing him of a desynchronization flashing briefly again. “C’mon!” Noctis puffed.

 

“Could say that one ended up a leap of fail there, dude,” Prompto chuckled, his smirk only widening at the unimpressed scowl Noctis gave him. “Oh, c’mon, Noct. Take it like a man,” he imitated Gladio’s gruff voice.

 

Snorting a little, the prince thrusted him the controller. “Thank you,” the blond replied too cheerfully. The raven looked like he was about to say something more, but the midnight gaze caught something else, and his attention drifted over to the half-emptied bowl of chocolates and the pile of wrappers gathered on Prom’s side of the coffee table.

 

Following his eyes, the younger took up the evidence, too, now looking at it as if he was really seeing it for the first time. _Oh, crap!_ Was that all his doing? Of course, it was; Noct had had his hands full with the game.

 

Noctis said something, his eyes laughing mischievously, but the blond didn’t catch any of it, just mumbles. _Nine...ten…eleven. Eleven wrappers. Made eleven candies._ He did a quick math. _429 calories. An hour-long run. Sixty stinking minutes. That’s an entire meal!_

 

It was the expectant air that made him look at the questioning expression of his company. _Dammit. I got distracted again._ “Uhm, sorry man, I totally spaced out a little,” he tried to console.

 

“Just, asked if you’d like some...you know what, never mind.” Noctis dragged a hand through his hair lazily, brushing the strands out of his face. “What’s with you today, man? You’ve been kinda...out of it.”

 

“It’s nothin’.” It was too quick, too rehearsed. One look told him that Noctis wasn’t buying it.

 

“Sure?” Noctis certainly wasn’t. “I mean, if you wanna talk about it-”

 

“I said it’s fine, Noct.”

 

Taken aback by the tone, Noctis’ face fell. “Okey, if you say so…”

 

Prompto felt like he had been elbowed into his pelvis. That had been rude. _Nice going, you idiot._ Noct made a point not to look at him as he almost protestingly fixed his attention back to the television.

 

“Your turn.”

 

Prompto almost had to bite his cheek. He had made out the thin layer of hurt beneath the raven’s languid tone. And it was his fault. When all Noct had tried to do was to make sure he was alright.

 

He really was the worst.

 

 _Say something, Prom._ He should apologize. He should tell him that he didn’t mean it like that. But he couldn’t let Noct know about _this_. Or anyone, for that matter. So what came out was: “Uh, right…” On the screen, the character crouched behind barrels as the assassin stalked his target.

 

The tension remained for the best of half an hour. What finally did it were a few particularly impressive aerial assassinations Prompto performed, which had them both elated as they imitated the slow-motion preceding the character plunging his Hidden Blade into the target. After that, the atmosphere loosened up again, but inside, Prompto’s stomach tightened, and not just because of his hunger.

 

He _really_ was the worst.

 

Noctis was in good spirits again, his little snap all but forgotten, apparently, but somehow it made him feel even worse about it. He hadn’t even apologized. _Get your act together, man!_ Prompto scolded himself. _You can’t just snap at people like that._

 

_But you have no problem devouring the food they offer, do you?_

 

And Prompto wished that he was a radio. At least then, he could turn that hurtful voice off and just enjoy spending time with Noct. But he wasn’t, and it still stood that he had eaten all that candy. 429 calories. An hour-long run.

 

He really was _the worst._

 

It was the wee hours of the night when the blond finally headed home. Noctis had offered him to crash on the couch, but Prompto had declined. The prince had just shrugged and wished him a good night, and that he’d text him tomorrow. And the boys had fist-bumped, and then the blond had left, with one last ‘sweet dreams, princess’ and a corresponding ‘bite me’ exchanged before the door clicked shut behind him. Prompto’s hand lingered on the door knob; he sighed and let the fingers slide off of the metal. _Sorry, Noct. But I’ve gotta do this._

 

The familiar night guard was on duty at the entrance lobby again, and Prompto waved the man a greeting --”Good night, sir!” -- as he slipped out through the main doors. As soon as he was sure that no-one could see him from the inside anymore, and just to be sure, he had taken the side of the street blind to Noct’s apartment in case the prince was still awake, Prompto broke into a run. First a couple of jogging steps that quickly accelerated into all-out running as his breathing begun to get heavier.

 

He ran. His place was halfway across the entire district. No way did Prompto have the money to live anywhere near the fancy neighborhoods Noct’s apartment was located at. Even his usual trip to school took him almost 40 minutes. But he didn’t care. He ran anyway. Eventually his lungs begun to sting with the strain, and his step was heavy, it was like he was running in tar, his feet refused to rise and he had to fight to make himself move forward. The inviting idea of just letting himself slow down was shoved aside, though. He deserved this. He had eaten all that chocolate.

 

But despite his best efforts, his steps were slowing down, his limbs claimed by the fatigue and lack of energy to a point where the blond was forced to finally allow himself to collapse against a mailbox. Heaving in air, Prompto’s legs trembled with the exertion. The taste of copper, combined with the remnants of vomit, had risen onto his tongue, and he made a disgusted face at himself as he tried to spit it away.

 

 _You’re pathetic_ , his jaw tightened. _How do you expect them to accept you if that’s all you can do?_

 

 _That’s right,_ he thought. _There’s no way I’ll ever make it into Crownsguard if this’s all I’ve got._ His limbs protested at every move, but despite the ache, Prompto pushed himself off of the mailbox. Giving his legs a few swift slaps to make the blood flow again, he inhaled deep to calm his still uneven breathing, and then forced himself back to running again. He ran until his legs nearly gave out on him. When he finally reached his apartment, dragging himself inside and to the bed was all he could do before his mind was swept away as exhaustion claimed what was rightfully his.


	2. Something Rotting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto has an embarrassing slip-up during training, and Noctis is just a bit concerned about his friend's recent eating habits.

Vague, irritating tunes poked through the warmth of sleep, winding around Prompto’s mind until he finally woke up enough, and with a sigh, turned off the alarm on his phone.

_Training with Cor today. And I’m completely exhausted. Wonderful._ The blond pulled himself from beneath the warm blankets like a disoriented jellyfish and sat for a moment, allowing his brain to realize that daylight meant ‘wake up’ and not ‘screw it and go back to bed’. Prom yawned and ran a hand through his hair before standing up and dragging himself to the bathroom. 

The sight of the toilet reminded him of the previous night and he cringed inwardly. Tearing his eyes away from the ceramic bowl, he turned to look at himself in the mirror, his reflection looking back: haggard; blue eyes not completely focused as he fought off the lethargy of sleep. Pushing those thoughts aside for the moment, he focused his attention to getting dressed and fixing his hair in its familiar upswept look. An imitation of normalcy at the very least. _I can’t just appear to the citadel looking like shit. They’d immediately know something’s off. I don’t need that._

Prompto made himself some coffee and a single piece of toast--no jelly or peanut butter!--and ate. It wasn’t filling at all, but calories. . .Prompto sighed and scowled at his still-growling stomach.

“You’ll get something else later. Time to go train.” He grabbed his duffel bag with a bottle of water and change of clothes inside and finished getting his hair just so before heading out where he saw Ignis waiting with a car.

“Iggy? You didn’t have to pick me up.” Prom rubbed at his neck, feeling his face heat up.

“His Highness insisted.” The royal advisor smiled at Prompto, who nodded and got in. They made their way through traffic to the citadel, and once there, they both headed to the training arena. Gladio and Cor were there with Noctis, discussing sword fighting techniques. 

As soon as Prompto saw the marshal, he panicked briefly, hoping he didn’t look as disheveled and out of sorts as he felt. _Dammit, why didn’t I grab just one bite of a granola bar or something? Stay awake, you dolt!_

The blond flashed a grin to the others as they came over. Noct cocked his head at him smugly. “Ready for an ass kicking?”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s going to be your ass on the mat this time.” Prompto tossed his vest onto a bench and Noct did the same with his jacket as he picked up practice blades for them both. 

Gladio shook his head. “You’re with Cor first, blondie. I’ll soften up Noct here for ya.”

_Cor? I have to spar with_ Cor?? Prompto felt his gut pooling into his feet. Why today, of all days? He tried and failed to stifle a large yawn.

“Daemons and wildlife won’t slow down for lack of sleep,” the marshal noted with his teacher-tone, but a faint smile emerged briefly as he swung his own sparring blade a couple of times for the show before raising it in challenge. “Are you ready?” Prompto nodded. 

Cor began with some basic moves. Wide cuts and jabs, adding in a few tricks and additional maneuvers, explaining as they sparred. At first the blond felt confident, even enjoying the difference in weaponry. After so long using guns, the sword was a unique challenge. Even so, Cor’s own blade found its mark far more often than Prompto’s did, but it was to be expected. 

He didn’t give himself enough credit, though. For a novice, Prompto began to get the hang of timing rather quickly. Learning when the opportune moments to block were, which moves would expose his opponent while safeguarding himself and what maneuvers he should avoid at all costs. All in all, Prompto wasn’t doing that bad. He was feeling pleased even, despite weariness biting at his mind.

Once they stopped for a breather, though, it all came down onto him, hard. The lack of decent sleep, coupled with not eating enough, had the blond clutching at the wall for support as a lurching dizziness overcame him. Starbursts of bright color flashed through his vision, and Prompto felt himself falling to the ground in a slow-motion drop. . .

. . .Someone was calling him?

“Prom?! Hey. . .” Gladio.

The gunner blinked, finding the lights of the ceiling coming into focus, along with Gladio’s upside-down face? The shield had the smaller man’s head in his lap, Cor kneeling beside them with a bottle of water.

“What. . .?” Prom looked up at them, dazed.

“You fainted,” Cor said. “Have you been feeling alright?”

“Yeah, I just. . .” _Just embarrassed myself in front of not only Noct’s bodyguard, but my superior_. With a low groan, Prompto sat up slowly, Gladio’s hand on his back.

“Take it easy for a bit,” the other man said. Prompto felt his cheeks heating, humiliation prickling at his ego. How had he let things go this badly? 

Cor held out the water and Prompto took it, not daring to refuse. Noctis appeared from the bathroom with a cold washrag, setting it across the back of his neck.

“You scared us there, buddy.” The prince crouched down beside him. “What happened?”

Prompto looked down at his feet. “I, uh… I guess I didn’t eat enough for breakfast, that’s all.” Not quite a lie.

“We can take care of that. I’ll have Iggy whip up something.” Noct was already tapping away a text to his advisor, but before Prompto could halt the action, they all heard voices and saw King Regis and his own shield enter the training arena, making their way over to the younger men.

Prompto tried to shrink even further into the floor, closing his eyes and mentally boring holes into the wood. This just couldn’t be happening! His Majesty _and_ Gladio’s dad, here??

“Has something happened, Noctis?” Regis’ voice.

“Prom fainted.” Noct looked at his friend; the blond was bright red from embarrassment and so lost in his misery that he hadn’t even looked up.

“Should we take him to the infirmary? The physicians there could easily care for him--”

“No! I--I’m fine!” Prompto looked up then, belatedly realizing _he’d just interrupted the king_ and hadn’t even gotten up to bow, either. More mishaps piled on to an already building mess but how was that different from any other day? “Honestly, I’m fine. . .it’s my fault for not eating enough this morning. I’m good, just got a bit light-headed.”

Regis held out a hand to the gunner, and Prom hesitated only an instant before he took it, more out of instinct than a desire for help. The king was stronger than he appeared as he gently pulled Prompto to his feet, Clarus also reaching out to help. There was a warmth of sorts emanating from the two, the concern of fathers for another’s son and in the space of a flickering half-second Prompto wanted to confide in them, the way he never quite could with his foster parents. . .but the moment fled like quicksilver and the blond was left with his insecurities and ferocious blush. But Regis’ kind eyes stayed on Prom.

“I insist that you spend the night here. Noctis has plenty of space in his suite,” the king coaxed warmly. Prompto nodded, feeling at least a little of his nervousness fade. _Can’t really say no, now can I_?

“I’ve got him, Dad,” Noct put an arm around Prom. “Come on, you need to chill for awhile.”

“Take care, Prompto,” Regis nodded to the younger.

“Thank you, Majesty.” The boy remembered to bow this time, grateful for his friend’s supportive arm. Once in the prince’s bedroom, the blond flopped onto his back on the bed and covered his face. “The Astrals hate my _guts_!” Voice muffled behind his palms. “Your dad, Gladio’s dad, Cor. . . how the hell can this get any _worse_?!”

Noctis sat onto the bed too, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Seriously, Prom, it’s okay. Really. Anyone can faint. It wasn’t like you did it on purpose.” His tone was kind, but a hesitance crept into the prince’s eyes, his brows narrowing slightly in thought. The recollection of yesterday, how Prompto but nibbled at his sushi… ”But I gotta ask: is your stomach feeling alright? Sounds like you haven’t had much for longer than just today.”

Prompto pulled his hands from his face. “I’m fine, Noct. You know how it is trying out new foods. I think.” The prince’s disgust with vegetables was well known in the citadel, which earned him a long standing tradition of teasing. Not knowing what else to say to that, Noctis accepted his friend’s explanation. There was more to whatever this was, Noctis could tell that much, but it seemed that Prompto didn’t want to talk about it. So he buried his worry, shelved that for another time. 

“Okay, then, Crownsguard-in-training, your new orders are to rest on that bed for the remainder of the day. Anything you need I can have Ignis bring it to you.”

The gunner felt the same longing trying to surge forth from earlier, the need to explain things to Noct, to confide. . .Prom began to speak, but once again fell short of succeeding, the words getting lost on the tip of his tongue, slipping away from him into a realm Prompto wasn’t willing nor capable of following them at this time. So instead, he curled up on the bed, facing the windows. His gut cramped from the cauldron of emotions fighting for his attention like starved piranha. But the bed was amazingly soft, the room cool, and Prompto gave in to the abrupt exhaustion that returned, crashing through his defenses and mental fumbling. 

His stomach protested, though, growling loud enough for the prince to hear, and Noctis snorted a laugh. “I’ll get you something from downstairs for now. We can bug Specs later. Have him whip up something great for you. Don’t fall asleep yet.” Before the blond could bring himself to stop him, the raven-haired teen had left the room, and Prompto sighed.

_What the hell is happening to me? I can control myself better than this, dammit!_ Disgusted with himself for who knew how many times already that day, the blond resigned himself to look up at the ornate ceiling, tracing the near-garish levels of baroque architecture with his eyes. _If I was anyone else, and Noct was anyone else, talking about this would be so easy. But he’s royalty, and I’m. . .I’m just nobody_. Sneakily, Prompto’s treacherous mind had started a steep descent towards depression. He halted it instantly, feeling angry tears threatening to build. _Not now_. He took a deep breath and forced himself to continue his ceiling inspection until Noctis returned with a large paper bag.

“Veggie spring rolls from the kitchens. Not Iggy’s recipe this time, but they’re pretty good anyways from what I’ve heard. They’re even wrapped in lettuce leaves instead of fried shells.” Noctis made a face at the mention and scent of vegetables and handed the bag to Prom along with some chilled bottled water.

“Noct, you’re a saint!” Prompto perked up at the food, sitting up and taking a spring roll from the bag. Biting into it he closed his eyes and sighed, this time with contentment.

“Mmmmph. . .”

“Good?”

“Amazing!” Prom ate three of the six in the bag then stopped himself. _Still have to watch those calories_. He returned to laying down, feeling full but not stuffed. “Thanks.”

Noct smiled. “Glad I could help. Just don’t faint on me again,” he winked at the blond and swatted Prompto’s arm.

“Gods, I don’t plan to, believe me. I don’t think I could live down more embarrassment at that level!” Prom took out his phone and attempted to fire up King’s Knight but, with his stomach finally sated, sleep was eagerly awaiting him and he decided that the game could wait. He closed his eyes and was out in moments. The prince watched his friend for a few minutes, then quietly left the room, closing the door.

___________________________________

 

Prompto’s badly-needed rest was swarming with dark dreams, not quite at the level of nightmares, but unpleasant just the same. He was walking through a dark hallway, to a bathroom mirror where his reflection took on a life of its own, jeering at him.

_‘You’re never going to catch up to the rest of them, you know that. As soon as they find out about your problems, they won’t want you as a friend_. Noct _won’t want you as a friend. Then what’re you gonna do, huh?’_

_‘That’s not true,_ ’ Prompto shouted back. _‘Noct would never do that to me! None of them would!’_

_‘Yeah? Prove it then!’_ his reflection laughed, then reached out, pushing through the mirror to grab Prompto’s nightshirt. The hand holding him became bone-thin, flesh dissipating as a skeletal fist kept hold. His eyes widening in terror, the blond struggled. 

_‘Let go of me! Let GO--’_

\--Prompto woke up with a jerk, almost gasping, hands gripping the bedsheets tightly. The room was dark, only moonlight streaming in. Noctis was sound asleep in the guest bed on the other side of the room. Prompto sighed. _Just a dream. ‘T was just a dream_... Sliding from the bed as quietly as possible, the boy jammed his feet into the slippers beside the nightstand and tiptoed across the room.

As quietly as he could, Prompto opened the sliding glass door that led to the balcony overlooking the city. Carefully closing it behind him, the blond sat onto the marble bench and gazed up at the brilliant spread of stars above, the crystal shield protecting Insomnia shimmering occasionally, giving an aurora-like overlay across the sky.

It was here that Prompto finally gave in to tears, unable to stop the spill after the day’s events.


	3. Hive of Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Old loves, they die hard.  
> Old lies, they die harder.'  
> Prompto's predicament is getting harder and harder to keep in the dark from observant eyes when the effects it has on him are beginning to affect his daily life and relationships.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN (Mrs. Steal-your-girl): This chapter kinda hits close. Prompto is at a phase where he feels less guilty about his behavior (throwing up and obsessing over food). Instead, the guilt is shifting towards the secret he’s keeping, the lie he builds around himself. The unhealthy habit of binge-eating and/or purging has stopped bothering him per se. It brings him certain gratification even. And as he progresses, all the more self-critical he becomes.  
> These thoughts might hit hard. If you’re experiencing these things or think that you or someone close to you might have difficulties with having a healthy relationship to food and/or own body and self-image, please be courageous and seek help. An eating disorder is a deteriorative, long-term struggle with one’s own self that can have long-withstanding effects to mental and physical health. Please be safe. There is support and help available.

Prompto couldn’t help fidgeting nervously on his seat a bit as he watched how Noctis maneuvered himself past the other patrons in the crowded bar, muttering a few offhand apologies, two pints held to his chest. Slumping back down on his side of the booth, the raven all but slammed his drink in front of him. “Knock yourself out!”

 

“And as always, I appreciate your concern over my well-being,” his friend returned the banter as he raised the drink as a thank you. “Thanks.”  _ Dammit, why did it have to be beer?! I would have been fine with just a vodka soda… _

 

“You know it,” Noctis grinned, and the young men toasted. The prince took several heartfelt gulps of his drink, momentarily too engrossed to notice how his company only sipped his a couple times.

 

They chatted casually, throwing banter and an occasional playful shoulder punch at each other for a while before Noct happened to pay attention to something. “What’s the matter, you don’t like it?”

 

“Huh?” 

 

The raven shot a meaningful glance downwards across the table. “Your beer.” And Prompto’s wishes for his royal sponge of a best friend not noticing were blown out of the window as his eyes went from his on-the-full-side drink to the almost consumed pint sitting in front of Noctis. “You don’t like it?”

 

“Me? Nah, I’m just lightweight.”  _ See the irony in that? _ the poisonous voice in the back of his mind sneered. “I, uh, probably wouldn’t be able to hold it in, to be honest.” It was brutal how he wasn’t  _ lying _ about it, either, but the blond forced his mind from the gutter as he settled the sheepish look onto his face. Noctis was eyeing him with jester.

 

“Prom, that’s, like, the third beer you’re having.”

 

“As I said, dude. A lightweight.”

 

“Whatever, man,” the prince shrugged. “But I bet you can do better.” And Prompto should have seen it coming, from the way Noctis’s eyes lit up with mischief and the raven leaned back in his seat as he crossed his arms over his chest, the Cheshire cat grin plastered onto his face. “You know what, I challenge you.”

 

“Challenge?” Prompto asked a bit nervously.

 

“To a drinking match,” the prince declared, leaning his elbows onto the table again, never averting his eyes. 

 

_ Just decline it, Prompto. You don’t need to do this. _ But it was damn difficult to say no to Noct as the raven eyed him with gleaming eyes, challenge written all over his features. And...and  _ screw it! _

 

Prompto snorted, an equally smug smile rising onto his lips. “You know what?” he mimicked the other’s posture. “You’re on.” A sliver of thrill ran along his back as he watched how his friend’s grin broadened to show teeth. Making a gun with his fingers, he pointed it at the raven and pretended to shoot. “Hit me with your best shot, oh highness.”

 

“You bet. But you’re gonna finish that first. No way I’m giving you almost a pint’s head start!”

 

_ Don’t. Do it. _ Against his better judgment, though, the gunner grabbed a firm hold of his pint, and with a small ‘bottoms up’ gesture towards the raven, downed the rest of his drink in one go. Letting out a held breath, he slammed the pint to the table, giving the other a dirty smug look. “Satisfied?”

 

Noctis glanced down at the empty pint, impressed, before grinning savagely at his company. “So then. First to call it quits loses?”

 

“More like first to get thrown out, knowing how you get.”

 

Noctis made a face. “Hey! That was one time, and we agreed not to talk about it.”

 

Chuckling, Prompto waved his hand apologetically. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sorry, Noct. The regal doctrine of sworn silence an’ all, right?”

 

“Quit it,” the prince punched his shoulder lightly.

 

Leaning his elbows to the table again, Prompto gave him a hungry look. “Aww, Noct. Don’t be that way. I’m sure at least the Insomnian tabloids loved to hear about the stupid stuff you do drunk.”

 

“Well, ready your pens, people, ‘cause I guess I’m about to do some more,” the prince grinned as he rose from the table. “The same?”

 

“The same, man. And have the wench pour it in a dirty glass.”

 

“You watch too much movies,” Noctis shook his head as he went to get them their brews.

 

-

 

“Truly, Noct,” Ignis rolled his eyes in the rearview mirror as his protégé broke into a giggling fit on the backseat, soon accompanied by the blond. “Would you at least try to sit properly?”

 

“Don’ tell me what tah do,” the prince threw out languidly, sparing the man only a glance.

 

“Telling you what to do is, unfortunately, my sworn duty, Your Highness. And I regret informing you that no amount of self-induced intoxication is going to effect that any,” the older man huffed, eyes only leaving the road for another glance at his shithead wasted ward.

 

“Wohoo! Go, Ignis,” Prompto gave him what looked like an odd lovechild of a fist bump and a high five. Then, he corrected his posture, and imitating the adviser’s tone, he scolded, “Shee Noct, getting yourshelf absholutely  _ fuckin’ hammered _ ,” the blond broke his own composure, the rest of it coming out under a string of breathless giggles, “ishn’t shavin’ yar damn ass from gettin’ kicked in the mornin’ when Gladio’s gonna fuckin’ eat you alive man this was so bad idea!” He was now laughing uncontrollably, the prince to the point of suffocating next to him. 

 

Ignis, however, was less amused by his antics. “You  _ don’t  _ need to encourage him, Prompto,” he scolded. “And mind if I correct, I do not have that Northern ‘sh’ in my accent.”

 

“Haha. Sorry, Iggy,” water was prickling in the corner of his eye.

 

“It is quite alright,” the adviser sighed. “The two of you mind gathering yourselves, perhaps? We’re about there.”

 

How they managed to maneuver themselves from the car to Noct’s condo was a feat in itself. The boys’ blasted bliss was slipping into slowly sobering suffering as sleep seeped its way into their limbs; Noctis practically slumped against the elevator wall. “I...feel kinda shitty, man.”

 

“Perhaps Your Highness should try drinking some more next time.” Noctis shot his adviser a dark look.

 

“Shut up,” he groaned.

 

Prompto paid little heed to the raven and his retainer’s bickering. The world was spinning in his eyes, his own heartbeats booming throughout him. Drawing in deep breaths through his nose, the blond fought the rising nausea. Fought inasmuch, he only ever attempted to make it to the apartment.

 

Guilt was eating at him. The men had gone overboard. When Noctis had proposed the drinks-all-around death match, Prompto had shoved the inner voice out of his head as they had downed beer after beer. He knew very well he was overdoing it; he also knew he couldn’t care less. But now, with all his distractions removed and the effect of the booze slowly wearing out, the voice was back to torment him - with a vengeance. Whispering its accusations over and over again, Prompto became painfully aware of just how badly he had allowed himself to slip. He had lost count at around sixth drink, and was sure they had had at least a couple more after that. A small shudder of disgust ran him through at the rough estimate of 1,300 calories.

 

He hadn’t  _ wanted _ to get rid of it this bad in a long time.

 

And the drunkenness would play as a perfect cover for him, too, he knew. He could just say that he just had too much. It wasn’t exactly a lie, either. And glancing at the sweat-sheened, slightly ill-looking complexion on his friend, too, Prompto thought he probably wasn’t the only one.

 

As soon as their raggedy band was through the door, Noctis wobbled to the couch and dropped like a ragdoll, stilling there with a groan of discomfort. The only one sober let out a small sigh as he went to pinch the bridge of his nose before going on his way to gather the blankets and pillows for the prince. Only at the sound of a door closing behind him did Ignis glance back at where Prompto had stood. The sound of running water wasn’t quite enough to drown out the sounds of retching coming from the bathroom.

 

The all too familiar bitter taste coated his gums and tongue again, and Prompto made a face at the initial disgust. Nonetheless, as his stomach settled down, his lips curved up into a satisfied smile as he panted lightly over the toilet bowl. 

 

A knock on the door startled him. “Prompto?” Ignis’s voice sounded from the other side. “Is everything alright?”

 

“Uh, ye-yeah! Yeah, everything’s-” his throat clenched around his lie. No, everything wasn’t  _ fine _ . “I’m good.”

 

Ignis sounded unimpressed. “Are you sure?” Hurrying to close the faucet, the blond mouthed cusses to himself.

 

“Just...had a bit too much,” Prompto forced a chuckle. He didn’t have to fake the embarrassment shading it, however. “Sorry, Ignis. Feeling better now.”

 

The adviser’s tone was thoughtful. “I am certainly not going to argue with that evaluation. In any case, when you’re done, I’ve prepared a bed for you. You should stay here for the night.”

 

“Thanks, Ignis,” Prompto called sheepishly before sighing quietly and bending over to rinse his mouth. The boy made a face at the pungent aftertaste in his mouth he couldn’t quite rid himself of, making a mental note to have a spare pack of breath mints with him next time.

 

Bloodshot eyes and sickly pale skin made his freckles stand out almost hauntingly. Grimacing at his reflection, Prompto studied himself.  _ At least most of it didn’t have the time to set in. Some of it though. _ But...he couldn’t have gone to the bathroom any sooner. They were having fun. And, Prompto gulped a little, Noct would have smelled it right away. If he had, he would have started asking questions… Dammit! He  _ really  _ needed to start keeping those breath mints better at hand!

 

Deeming his appearance good enough, considering, the blond nodded at himself resolutely before stepping out of the bathroom. Only to come face to face with the best poker face in Insomnia. The look Ignis offered him betrayed nothing of what the man was thinking as he studied him like he tried to read his mind, and for a terrifying moment Prompto panicked. Had he talked out loud? Had Ignis heard it? Already about to spew something to explain himself, Prompto almost missed the slight softening of Ignis’s eyebrows.

 

“Prompto. Is everything alright?”

 

_ Please don’t make me lie. Not again. _ “Uh...is, now. Better. I...never really learned to hold my liquor.”

 

“You’re sweating.”

 

“I do that!” Prompto chimed, just a little too fast, just a little too peppy.  “I...always sweat like a swine when I get drunk.”  _ Quite fitting, isn’t it?! _ Prompto’s jaw tightened as he readily wished for the inner voice to go screw itself.

 

Ignis looked thoughtful. The emerald gaze was piercing as if the man truly tried to look through his lie. For Prompto wasn’t as stupid as to actually expect  _ Ignis fucking Scientia _ to believe him. The man was an enigma machine. It was his  _ job _ to read the fine print. To see the message within words, to make deductions and  _ see through lies _ . Prompto was already freaking out inside as Ignis, with a deep sigh, shook his head and averted his eyes. “I’ve prepared something to ease the headache. Drink it before bed.”

 

“A-alright.” Prompto wanted to bite his tongue. “Thanks Ignis.”

 

“It is quite alright. Now, if you think the two of you manage from here on…” he hinted for the door.

 

“Oh! Yeah. Sure. I’ll...I’ll see Noct to bed. You go ahead and go home,” Prompto all but ushered the brunet. “Thanks for picking us up.”

 

Ignis offered him a smile. Genuine, kind. Prompto’s stomach lurched but it wasn’t from the alcohol anymore. “In that case...goodnight, Prompto. Feel free to call me if anything comes up.”

 

“Oh. Yeah. We manage. Goodnight, Specs.” He just caught the playful eye roll as the adviser exited the apartment. Breathing out a deep breath, the blond dragged a hand down his face, grimacing at the clamminess. He made a face as he quickly wiped it on the cleanest corner of his shirt before heading to try to coax the passed-out Noctis to move to bed.

 

* * *

 

Prompto tapped his bottom lip with the dull end of the pencil absentmindedly. His teacher’s voice jumbled up into slur in his ears despite Prompto trying to pick up and focus on the conductive qualities of the various nonmetals listed on the board. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested.

 

_ I ran three miles in the morning. About 300 calories. _

 

His mind was just elsewhere.

 

_ A ham-and-tomato sandwich and two oranges for breakfast. And coffee doesn’t have that much in it. It’s the milk that does it really. That, or the sugar. _

 

“Argentum?”

 

_ So if I’ll skip lunch, I...guess I could treat myself a little later? Uh. I shouldn’t-! But...but it’s been so long! I, I really wanna have some burger or pizza or something! It’s not  _ that bad _ if it’s only every once in a while, right? People always say to treat yourself every now and then. And I ate healthy yesterday! So I guess it’ll- _

 

‘Prom?!’

 

“Argentum?!” a demanding voice bore through his reverie.

 

“Uhm?” Prompto’s attention snapped up, just in time to witness how Ms. Raine’s expectant look slowly slid into one of annoyance.  _ Shit. _ The sky-eyes briefly flicked over to Noctis sitting in the next desk to his right. The prince was giving him the what-the-hell-man look.

 

Trying to make up for his blunder, Prompto asked sheepishly, “Uh, I’m sorry, what was that?”

 

The teacher didn’t look pleased. Her lips set into a firm line as she corrected her glasses. “Argentum. Could you please tell us what is important to remember when tempering Millerite?”

 

The what? “Uhm…” Intuitively he glanced at his friend for help, but Noctis only shook his head slightly. “I...don’t know.”

 

Ms. Raine’s piercing stare weighed his answer. Then, with a soft huff, she turned to the rest of the class. “Could anyone help Argentum out? Maylie?” Prompto sank back in his seat as a pony-tailed girl sitting closer to the door lowered her hand. 

 

“It doesn’t temper, ma’am. The structure of Millerite crumbles when heated so it won’t temper.”

 

The teacher nodded and turned to point at a picture of okra-colored mineral. “Very good. Millerite is the weakest of the known nonmetals and hardly suitable as construction material. It’s most commonly used as an ingredient in compound plastics and insulation materials due to its poor conductivity.”

 

Prompto listened only half-heartedly. He had just managed to make a complete fool of himself. When had the teacher even talked about that millici… millari...whatever? Had he been that caught up in his thoughts? The blond felt his cheeks heating up in shame of his latest blunder and he hoped to any entity that looked upon to-be high school failures that it didn’t show. He felt eyes on him, but refused to look at Noct. He knew what he would see. He didn’t need his pity.

 

Next to the blond, Noctis sighed silently as it became clear that Prompto wasn’t going to acknowledge him. Carefully, the prince hid the worry from his features before turning his attention back to Ms. Raine’s presentation.

 

-

 

After the class, Prompto almost made a leave before Noctis caught him. He had been quick. Almost like…

 

Almost like he didn’t want to talk to him.

 

“Prom.” Noctis tapped his friend’s shoulder lightly - only to blink at the sudden jolt beneath his hand. His breath caught a little: surely he just imagined that? But it did take Prompto a while to turn to look at him. Almost like…

 

Almost like he didn’t want to-

 

Noctis ground-tackled the thought from his head as soon as Prompto turned around, a surprised expression over his face. “Huh? Noct?”

 

There it was. That goofy face he had learned to know so well. Noctis cracked a grin. “Hey. Uh, everything alright?” He motioned for the teacher’s desk.

 

“Huh? Oh. Heh. It’s cool, man. I was just...thinking,” Prompto explained but dodged his gaze as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

 

Noctis’s brows drew a bit closer. “About what?” he chuckled.

 

“You know...stuff.”

 

Why did it feel like Prompto was avoiding him? Noctis tried again with a different approach.

 

“Hey wanna hit the mall? I heard that arcade hall is running an open ‘Ironfist’ tournament,” Noctis sounded like he could barely contain his excitement.

 

Prompto hesitated. “Sorry, man.”  _ What am I doing?  _ “Can’t.”  _ Why am I saying this? _

 

Noctis looked positively flabbergasted. “Why not?!”

 

“Gotta go home. I’ve got stuff to do.” Prompto inwardly grimaced at the disappointment on his friend’s face.  _ Sorry, Noct. But I…I...  _ “I’ve gotta go. See you tomorrow.” Prompto offered his friend an apologetic smile and a wave of a hand before heading home. He didn’t look back.

 

Later, standing in line at his favorite hamburger place, Prompto wrestled the guilt of having turned Noct down for  _ this _ .

 

A lot later, hacking dryly over the porcelain bowl, he wasn’t sure if the salty water trickling down his cheeks was because of the retching cramps or for lying to Noct.

  
  


* * *

 

Three weeks later, Prompto was heading to Noct’s room at the citadel to study when his phone buzzed with a notification. Curious, he looked to see who it would be and felt a crackle of nervousness when he saw the name: Cor. And the message did nothing to assuage Prompto’s nerves:  _ Please come to my office ASAP _ . The blond swallowed heavily and felt as though a rock had spawned in his stomach. If a high-ranking guardsman like Cor Leonis summoned you, you were either going to be praised for something worthy until you felt like fist-bumping an Astral, get a verbal grilling heated enough to make you the envy of an overdone steak, or be notified of an impending emergency to the royal family.

 

Prompto had a fairly good idea which of those three he was in for.

 

_ But I haven’t done anything wrong _ ! On cue, his overactive mind latched onto his anxiety and by the time he was at the door to Cor’s suite Prompto was an emotional wreck, hands sweating. He forced out a breath, ran hands over his hair and knocked.

 

“Come in,” Cor’s voice filtered through the doorframe.

 

Prompto entered his superior’s office, too nervous to be impressed with the beautiful decor or fantastic view through the windows. The marshall gestured for one of the chairs in front of his salikawood desk. “Have a seat, son.”

 

_ Well, at least he doesn’t  _ sound  _ angry. Or look it, really _ . Prompto sat, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process and feeling his face heat up.  _ Dumbass _ , he mentally railed at himself. Cor sat behind the desk, facing the younger man.

 

“Now, it’s never been in my favor to dilly dally so I’ll just get to the point of why I called you here.” Cor folded his hands in front of him, piercing pale blue eyes meeting Prompto’s violet-hued ones. “The past year, you’ve done well in school, better than expected in some areas, even. You’ve made me proud, Prompto.”

 

“Th-thank you, sir,” the blond stammered. The gigantic ‘but’ was just hanging, waiting, breathing down the back of his neck-

 

“However, with the new school year barely six weeks old, I’ve noticed that your grades have dropped quite a bit, and I’m concerned.” Cor’s expression was always hard to read, but Prompto could’ve sworn he saw the worry there this time. “Standing in the Crownsguard requires excellent grades, and yours have been exemplary. Until now.”

 

Panic surged through Prompto, tangled with shame as he gripped the arms of the chair tight.

 

“Has anything been happening, Prompto? Are you being bullied again?”

 

“No! Sir. No, I’m not being picked on.” There had been days during his freshman year of high school when he’d been targeted by some of the seniors, for any number of ridiculous reasons, and the marshall had put a stop to it. Immediately. Prompto felt his heart rate speed up and fought to stay calm. He couldn’t tell Cor of all people about his problems. Hell, he didn’t want  _ anyone  _ to know. He’d be expelled from the guard and getting back in would be nearly impossible. And his friends! What would  _ they  _ say?! Noctis especially! Gods, this was a fucking waking  _ nightmare _ -

 

“Have they given you courses that are too hard, then? We can have you placed in other classes.”

 

Prompto’s throat constricted as he fought to avoid breaking down. He’d be damned if he let that happen in front of his idol. “No, sir. I-I can keep up.” Speaking was becoming difficult and Prompto wanted to run out of the room, down to the citadel lobby and keep going until he was all the way back home. Anywhere but here, where he could barely keep himself together.

 

“I don’t want to see you fail, son. You’re one of the best I’ve seen, and a good friend to the prince as well.”

 

Prompto could only nod.

 

Cor sighed, but it was in thought, not in disappointment at the other sitting across from him. “I can give you a leeway of one month to improve your grades. But after that, even I won’t be able to prevent your exiting the Crownsguard.”

 

“Please. . .I’ll make this right, I promise!” Prompto felt the rock in his gut shift into melting ice, thick and trickling through him in a slow-moving sludge of fast-waking panic.

 

“I hope you can. Remember, if you need help with anything -anything at all- you can always come to me.” For just a moment, Cor’s eyes held the expression of a concerned parent looking patiently at their son. Prompto felt himself getting choked up again and remained in place but thinking  _ let me leave let me leave just get me out of here _ !

 

“I will.”

 

Cor offered one of his rare, very faint smiles. “Dismissed, then.”

 

Prompto stood up, still feeling heat on his face.

 

_ You’re gonna crack. _

 

_ ‘No, I won’t!’ _

 

“Thank you, Marshall.”

 

_ Coward. _

 

_ ‘Shut up _ !’

 

The blond left the office as fast as politely possible, then beelined for the elevators, wove his way through the crowds in the lobby once there and all but dashed outdoors.

 

_ You’re crying again, aren’t you _ ?

 

_ ‘Fuck off _ !’

 

Once Prompto turned the corner from the citadel proper he  _ did  _ run, not stopping until he was deep into a nearby park, in a pleasant forested area. Only there did he let himself become unbound, not quite screaming in frustration as he slammed a hand against a tree, clawing at it.

 

_ Why, dammit _ ?  _ Why am I like this _ ?!  _ I’m trying to fix things, I really am _ !

 

Prompto squeezed his eyes closed, jaw clenched, then let the anger and frustration out in a stream of curses, unable to decide who or what he was most angry with, the world or himself.


End file.
